"... ago, I had just finished a double-shift at ALDI. My manager, Mr. Blayhi, had gone missing a week before clashes between the heg- hegemonic pro-human protesters and the dispossessed masses. I returned home to Magogoe and found it ablaze. The ash was suffocating..."

Najwa stood at the back of the grandiose central hall, behind rows of photojournalists. Camdrones flitted around the vaulted ceiling, and tickled her ears with the steady hum of their turbines. Chrome hulls reflected the auditorium's vedic frescoes of polychromatic Vimanas, creating a series of dependent reflections. Her discerning eyes swam through the hyper-detailed textures and forms, real and reflected. 

"... and since then, we have seen unprecedented economic growth since the establishment of a Pan-African Union."

[i]That's the cue.[/i]

Pulled from her reverie, Najwa walked through the auditorium's palatial doors with a faint smile. This assignment had seen many firsts for her; first time off-continent, first time on an aircraft that didn't immediately go down, first time on a boat- even if the boat was a city, one bigger than any she'd seen before.

These thoughts carried her out into the open air, beneath one of the Lotus Incarnate's "petals", where the midday sun's heated embrace lingered on what little skin she exposed; face, neck and forearms. The olive drab of her attire, while well-suited for her usual operations, woefully clashed with the immaculate whites and resplendent blues of her surroundings. Colorful throngs passed her as she waited for the end of Representative Ngele's speech (which she could still hear) atop a set of stairs that overlooked a mauve-hued avenue of solar collection cobblestones. Vegetation-clad terraced towers seemed to drop off into infinity beyond the aerogel balustrade.

Nostrils flared as Najwa took a deep breath. She immediately began to drool at the distant aromas of dishes she couldn't wait to devour. A tell-tale grumble confirmed it- she'd have to eat even if she dragged the representative to lunch with her. With a sudden twinge, all thoughts of hunger were banished. Beneath the fragrant tang of simmering tamarind sauce and coconut milk, she detected the faint, familiar scent of nitrocellulose, bismuth trioxide and brass. 

[i]Hmm...[/i]

"Something's up. Escort Mr. Ngele and the SWAG delegates out of the Lotus through the suboceanic tunnels. We'll rendezvous at the safe room." Najwa issued the commands via adhesive throat-mic given to her by SWAG's security detail for the conference. 

Confidently, she descended the stairs and stopped a full yard away from the curve. Her eyes swept from parked car to parked car, right hand resting on the FN 5.7's grip. Hopefully, it was nothing and she'd get to enjoy the rest of their visit to Tamarin.